The Policeman of Secrets

Chapter 17 Part 1

Chapter Seventeen

The snow was deep and the going hard as Balthazar, Solomon, Lily, and Penelope made their way across the field to Balmoral Castle. Keen to avoid the watchers undoubtedly posted around the enormous stone edifice that dominated the horizon, the count had ordered Mother Cog to keep the airship far enough away that it would not be seen. Balthazar’s last words to her were: “If we are not back by dawn, we are probably dead and you should find the others and continue the fight without us. If we still live, we will find you, one way or the other.”

A hill close to Balmoral village that was high enough for an airship hovering low provided an adequate barrier to any keen eyes. But it left the four facing a long walk in bitter temperatures before they could achieve entry into the castle.

Balthazar, however, remained cheerful despite the cold and the tedious trudging through the ankle-deep snow. “Met a few royals in my time, one way or another,” he said, careful to ensure that his friends matched his steady pace. “Some voluntarily, some by accident when one of my little adventures took an unexpected turn and they decided they needed a word with me. Fairly decent lot on the whole, despite their airs and graces.”

“What of our own queen?” asked Lily, breathing fast. She was finding the journey difficult, even though Balthazar had found a hunting path that he was sure provided the fastest way across the fields and to the rear of the castle. She stumbled occasionally, and was grateful each time Solomon offered her a supporting hand. Penelope went on in silence, her face set with thoughts of vengeance against those who had somehow convinced her husband to desert both her and those who had trusted him so much.

“Not had the pleasure yet,” said Balthazar. “I’ve done a few pieces of work for her lackeys, before the Assembly took such a hold on most of them. Recover this report from a thief, plant that incriminating letter in the Spanish ambassador’s bedroom, kill this spy. You know the sort of thing. Never met her, though.

“So it will be a quite an experience. For both of us, ha ha.”

Solomon fancied that the boisterous count might draw his flute at any moment and play a reel, but he himself felt nothing but fear as Balmoral drew ever closer. However much they might have been wounded by the Workshop of Light’s recent activities, the Arcanum still possessed tremendous resources, all of which seemed focused on whatever was happening, or might be about to happen, within these forbidding grey walls. Lord Stone, fanatic that he was, would clearly allow nothing to sway him from his course. He also had the deadly skills of Elizabeta and countless others to support him. Added to that were the Queen’s own forces: armed guards ready to die for her, a host of retainers and advisers, plus miscellaneous others.

Balthazar was sure that he could gain entry and spin enough tall tales to reach Her Majesty intact and warn her of whatever the Arcanum might intend. Solomon was still doubtful. He had retained much of his old skill at arms and Penelope was an excellent shot. Lily possessed a great deal of courage within her slight frame and her bag and pockets were filled with ingenious chemical tricks. The count was undoubtedly inventive and courageous. But it was obvious that the four of them faced formidable odds, and to what aim? After all, the Queen’s family and its advisers had wanted something like the Assembly, although King William probably never imagined the lengths to which it would subsequently be taken by people like Lord Stone. Clearly the Queen had either not known of its existence or failed to put it into proper effect; if she had, the Arcanum would not be acting against her. What if she was already a victim of the Assembly, her mind ready to be easily plied by the skillful tongue of a lord she held in high standing?

Despite his concern, Solomon kept a calm expression on his face even as the count pointed ahead to the darkening horizon. Dusk was coming fast, and the quartet could make out increasing numbers of lamps filling the castle’s windows. Their welcoming glow was in stark contrast to the battlements atop the slab-like walls.